


The Party

by trashtrove (editoress)



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Bruce Wayne is intimidating even without the mask, F/M, Jason is a chill polite nerd, Lex Luthor mention - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 15:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/editoress/pseuds/trashtrove
Summary: Bruce Wayne's party, she thinks, is far too ostentatious for her tastes.  Fortunately, one of his friends agrees.





	The Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bossladyharley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bossladyharley/gifts).



> For Melody. And I suppose for Jason and his baffling but delightful friendship with our favorite crime-fighting rich boy.

Melody did not belong here.

There were not many social mixers she did belong in, but this one certainly didn't fit the bill.  The whole place smelled of money, perfume, and distressingly dry wine.  It wasn't enough that Melody looked gorgeous in a flowing red dress and smoky eye makeup; she didn't look _pristine_.  The men and women around her shone with wealth.  Every detail of their appearance was meticulously put together.  And _they_ didn't look for a trash can out of habit when they finished with their plates, because people like this knew the help would take care of it.

She was going to set Lex's precious desk on fire for getting her here.  Let him see how well his aesthetic worked out without all that mahogany in his study.  But she had agreed—just one more favor between them.

Unfortunately, no amount of persuasion or flattery could make Melody good at small talk.  To make things worse, Bruce Wayne—her purpose in coming here—was impossible to pin down.  She always seemed to hear a booming voice and the ruckus of a bad idea from the next room over.  By the time she arrived, he was nowhere to be found.  In the meantime, she was wandering the mansion in circles, speaking only a little and desperate for a reprieve from these damn rich people.

Finally, she spotted something else that didn't belong: a nice suit.

It was fine, as suits went.  It was dark brown, and it fit well, and it was clean.  But in a room of designer names tailored perfectly to the men beneath them, it stood out.  The suit-clad man in question seemed to have more or less wedged himself into a corner next to a mostly decorative bookshelf, which he was examining.  Melody made her way over.  She needed a break from her game of hide-and-seek with her host, and this was the first person she had seen so far who looked as though he wasn't showing off or making connections.

"Does he have anything good?" she asked when she was close enough.

The man didn't jump, but alarm showed in the way his head snapped around.  He had dark eyes under slightly unkempt, wiry brows, and there was an oddly dashing white streak in his hair.  "Just the classics," he answered.  He relaxed and turned back to the bookshelf.  "I haven't come across the nonfiction yet."

Melody gently tugged at a copy of _Frankenstein_.  It was a decades-old hardback in perfect condition.  "I wonder if he's even read these."

"He might surprise you."

The only surprise Melody was encountering was the strength and depth of this man's voice.  His tone was low and even, but his voice carried an edge.  She got the impression he could thunder with the best of stage actors if he tried.  If she could keep him talking, this party might be worth some of the time she had spent trying not to scowl at millionaires.  "I hope so.  I hate to think someone would have _1984_ just for show."

The man's lips quirked in a small smile.  The sincerity did wonders for his charm.  “That _would_ be a shame.”  He freed his hand from his pocket to offer it in greeting.  “Jason.  A pleasure.”

She shook his hand.  “Melody.  I’m a pleasure, myself.”

His shoulders bounced once with the quiet start of a laugh.  “So you are.  Care to come to the library with me?”

She did.  To her relief, Jason didn’t insist on putting an arm around her or even offer.  He just walked beside her as much as possible as they weaved through the crowds of partygoers.  They earned several fleeting but calculating looks along the way, presumably because neither of them reeked of money.  Jason either didn’t notice or wasn’t bothered.

“Nonfiction,” Melody mused aloud.  “So do you read history?”

“Hmm.”  He dodged the expansive gestures of a guest describing the volatility of the beauty products market.  “No, not really.  I prefer philosophies.  Or supernatural accounts.”  He hesitated.  “I’m… a little eclectic.  I’m sorry; that doesn’t make for much conversation, does it?”

“That depends.”  She followed him down the start of a hallway.  The noise of the party faded behind them.  “Is the library open to guests?”

“Probably.”  Jason stopped at a set of double doors and pushed lightly on one.  It swung open without resistance.  “Here we are.”

Despite her reservations, Melody went inside.  She _did_ want to see Bruce Wayne’s library, and if she couldn’t talk her way out of being found in an off-limits room, then she had wasted years of experience.  It was classy and even better stocked than she had expected.  There were a few empty wine glasses on a table, evidence of other guests passing through, but for now it was empty—and _quiet_.  "That's much better," Melody sighed.

"Not one for crowds?" Jason asked.

"Sometimes."  She raised her eyebrows and gave him a smile that was half sarcasm.  "I don't think I'm fancy enough for this party, though."

"You look lovely," he said with perfect seriousness.  He spread his hands to display the full blandness of his brown coat.  "I'm the one who's not up to par."

She told him matter-of-factly, "You're doing better than most of them.  You actually look like a real person."

Jason gave her another small smile.  He smiled more with his eyes, she noticed, than with his mouth.  They brightened and slanted up at the corners.  "That's kind of you."  He put his hands back in his pockets.  "What are you doing here, if not enjoying yourself?"

Melody considered telling him that she _was_ enjoying herself.  It was because of that urge that she turned away to studiously read the titles on the nearest shelf.  She was here for a purpose.  More importantly, she needed more time to see what kind of man Jason was before she gave him _that_ kind of encouragement while alone at a party.  Some horndogs would take the whole dress if you gave them an inch.  "A friend wheedled me into coming.  You?"

"The same."

A silence descended, one of two strangers stuck haphazardly together.   Melody hadn't been prepared to fight it off, so she gave Jason a quick smile to acknowledge his answer and went back to browsing the Wayne Manor library.  After a moment, she heard him stroll to a different shelf.

She found nothing she would have picked up herself.  There were several books she would have read if she were bored enough, titles that had been on her to-read list out of principle since high school or college.  It seemed Wayne had a taste for dense texts—that or he wanted a pretentious-looking library, and she could guess which one was true.

Wood scraped against the floor.  When she turned around, Jason was sitting at the table with a tome of a novel  open in front of him.  While his attention was elsewhere, Melody took a moment to eye him—the faintly lined face that only seemed to make slight but genuine expressions, the dark red hair with its white streak, the squarish, long-fingered hands.  She had to admit two things.  First, by showing a willingness to leave her alone once she stopped talking, he had passed a test of basic human consideration far better than most men.  Second, in a solid, unassuming way, he was incredibly handsome.

Third, she added since she was being honest with herself, she already missed that voice.

"What did you find?" she asked.

Jason looked up.  "Stephen King," he replied.  " _The Stand_.  I knew it had to be in here somewhere."  One corner of his mouth drifted up, just slightly, when she sat across from him.  "No luck on your end?"

"I couldn't find a single Star Wars book," Melody deadpanned.

He burst into laughter.  He managed to muffle it to quiet snickering, but not before it affected her terribly.  She had not braced herself for a bright, ringing laugh.  "No, I imagine not," he said at last.  "I am beginning to wonder what your library would look like."

"Apparently, it has everything this one is missing."  She graced him with a smile of her own, but before she could continue, her phone buzzed.  She pulled it out of her tiny, useless purse (the only one she could have possibly carried with such a nice dress) and tapped it.  A private number had texted her a single question mark.

Lex was such an impatient brat.

"Something wrong?" Jason asked.

"Just someone pestering me," she answered airily with a last glare at her phone.  She had agreed to get something done, and she couldn't hide forever in the library with a handsome stranger, even if Lex's prompting made her want to do just that.  She sighed as she put her phone away.  "I can't seem to find anything I'm looking for.  I was _hoping_ to see Bruce Wayne tonight."

"He'll be around."

That was the second time Jason had said something oddly nonchalant about their host.  Melody considered him, lashes lowering.  "Have you been to many of these parties?"

"No," he answered decisively.

She narrowed her eyes at him that time, but that seemed to amuse him more than anything.  She rose somewhat reluctantly to her feet.  "Enjoy your book."

"Enjoy your search, Melody," Jason returned.  "A pleasure talking to you."

"Same here," she said, because it was a short reply and she could turn away before her blush showed.

The noise of the party and the difficulty of finding Wayne eventually cleared her mind, if not her blush.  It was a shame this was a one-time occurrence for both her and Jason.  She would have to find him again somehow.  In the meantime, she chased down the distant sounds of people calling Wayne's name.  It led to another half hour of circling the manor, always just behind him.

Finally, she saw Wayne turn down a hallway in the distance.  Pinning the hallway entrance with an unwavering glare that mostly stemmed from the growing discomfort of her high heels, she stalked after him.

The hall was empty.  Melody slowed her steps to a cautious walk until the noise began to fade.  Finally, she came to a stop and turned back toward the party.  Behind her, a smooth baritone said, "Too bad Lex couldn't make it."

She spun back around to find Bruce Wayne in the hallway as if he'd always been there.  He was leaning casually against the wall, one leg crossed over the other.  He was _gorgeous_.  He had jet black hair and blue eyes.  A chiseled jaw framed an easy playboy smile.  But there was something sharp around the edges, and it wasn't just his cheekbones.  It was in the steely steadiness of his attention on her and in those ice blue eyes.

"We're probably better off without him," she quipped.

Wayne straightened up to stroll towards her.  "How _is_ Lex?"

"I wouldn't know."  She stood her ground, even if it meant obviously looking up at him.  "I don't talk to him like that."

"Right."  He smirked down at her.  "Next time you _do_ talk to him, tell him if he wants to spy on me at my own party, he can just ask for an invitation."

Her heart hammered even as she realized she wasn't going to be able to get Lex what he was after, not tonight.  "Do you want me to quote that exactly, or should I just flip him off?"

The smile he gave her for that was a little too grim for him.  His gaze flicked to something over her shoulder, and he brushed past her.  "I hope you had a good time.  You can find the way out, right?"

Melody made a rude face at his retreating back.  What an ass.  What a startlingly perceptive ass.  But then, even from a distance, she recognized the figure he was waving over.  Slowly, silently, she crept closer.

"Jason, there you are!"  Wayne clasped Jason's hand as soon as they were close enough.

Jason gave him that small, meaningful smile.  "I'm not the one who's difficult to find."

"You were in the library?"

"I was in the library."

A group of women wearing more jewelry than seemed humanly possible, one of them beginning to stumble, passed between Melody and the two men.  Melody used the cover to move closer.  The women moved out of the way just in time for her to hear Wayne saying, "... don't have to come if you're not going to enjoy yourself, Jason."  His tone was different from the playful one he used in his television interviews or the way he had exposed her agenda just now.  He sounded earnest.  Melody began to get a good idea of why Jason had talked about him so nonchalantly.  "You know I'll make the time."

"No, no," Jason insisted.  "I..."  He spotted of Melody, and that smile returned.  "I'm glad I came."

Wayne turned to see who had caught his friend's attention.  Melody approached the conversation with a practiced grin.  "You finished _The Stand_ already?" she asked.

Jason's smile broadened a little.  "It wasn't the same without company," he admitted.  "Bruce, this is Melody."

"We've met," Wayne said easily.  He turned from studying Jason's warm expression to looking straight at Melody, and she had to wonder how he was managing that particular mix of expressions.  His face and bearing showed mild surprise; his eyes were blazing with something very much like murder.

"How do you know each other?" Jason asked curiously.

"A mutual friend."

"More like a mutual ex," Melody joked.  If Wayne was going to hire a hit man on her anyway, she might as well get a few cracks in.

Jason's eyebrows inched upward and he looked back at Wayne, who shook his head.  "I assume you're not staying," Wayne said.

"It was good to see you, Bruce."  Jason clapped his friend's shoulder.  "But I'd better go before this turns to drunken revelry."

"I was just leaving, too," Melody piped up.  Wayne turned an unreadable look on her, eyebrows twitching.  She met his gaze blithely.  She was doing exactly what he'd told her to do.

"I'll walk you out," Jason offered.

"I'll walk you _both_ out," Wayne countered.

Melody endured being more or less marched to the front door.  Wayne stayed solidly between her and Jason, who seemed nonplussed by his friend's attitude but asked no questions.  But the arrangement only lasted as far as the door.  Melody and Jason left in search of a cab on their own.  Melody imagined she could feel Wayne's icy stare on her back.

"Well," Jason said dryly, "same time next week?"

Melody laughed.  Despite having made a sort of enemy of one billionaire and having to deliver bad news to another, she laughed and meant it.  "Not a _chance_." 


End file.
